


(Walking in a) Winter Wonderland

by TheStrange_One



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [9]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Pining, Soulmate marks, Soulmates, Winter Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21880981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrange_One/pseuds/TheStrange_One
Summary: On the ninth day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me,A wonderland walk, a doppelganger, a Santa replacement, a present failure, a postal run, a caroling, a blue Christmas, a fairy tale, and a cute Spideypool story.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: 12 Days of Christmas [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568926
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	(Walking in a) Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spyraldancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spyraldancer/gifts).



Peter stopped and rubbed his face. It was too cold for most petty crime, he’d had a shitty day at work, and he just wanted to do something _fun._ He dropped into an alley with his bag, changed, and then headed towards the park. It was time for the annual “Winter Wonderland.”

He pulled the gloves out of his bag—and stopped as he was putting them on. His fingers lightly traced over his Soulmark, the mark he was born with. The mark that connected him to his Soulmate. He’d looked at it so much that he didn’t even need to see it to know what it was.

Everybody was born with three images on their left wrist that would, somehow, lead to them finding their soulmate. Two of the images would be the same for both parties, but the third—the third was something special that would help the soulmates identify each other.

Peter’s three images of his Soulmark were a Christmas tree, a snowman, and a long, thin sword. When he’d been younger he’d poured over images on the internet trying to identify the exact type of tree (Colorado blue spruce) and the sword (katana). The snowman was—well, a generic snowman. It might not even have been a snowman at all, but a frosted shaped cookie of some kind.

As a teen he’d spent as much time during the winter in Central Park as he could, by the spruces. Especially when they’d been decorated for Christmas. Year after year—nothing. Then, after Uncle Ben died, he’d avoided it for years.

Peter stopped at the entrance to the park and frowned at the white (or rather very, very light gray) world beyond as he realized that this was his _first_ time coming to the annual Winter Wonderland since his uncle died. He hadn’t realized how much he had avoided this place until now.

What if he’d left his soulmate there, agonized and waiting for him to make an appearance amongst the crowd? What if they’d waited until they gave up hope that he’d ever show up? What then?

Then he wouldn't have someone who would be hostage to fate. Someone who could easily be taken by Doc Oct, Scorpion, or Goblin. Someone who’s mere presence wouldn't make him panic even more when he saw the damage in the last place he saw them.

Man these were dark thoughts. Peter shook himself, trying to get rid of them. They were not the sorts of things he wanted to be thinking of while wandering through Winter Wonderland.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the cinnamon scent of the baking cookies from the stalls and stepped inside—only to trip over a pair of legs that were partially buried under the snow. “Uh, what?” he asked intelligently as he looked up to the person. He yelped at the mostly unresponsive form and frantically began scooping snow away from it.

A hand, almost twice the size of his own and covered in scars, came up suddenly and grabbed his wrist.

He did _not_ scream. He would deny it to his deathbed.

A body rose out of the snow like the monster of Frankenstein. “What are you _doing_?” the man grumbled.

Peter gaped at the man. He had been lying in the middle of the snow, wearing a thin hoodie and threadbare jeans, and he demanded to know what _Peter_ had been doing? “What am _I_ doing?” demanded Peter. “What are _you_ doing?”

The man grunted as he sat up and the setting light played on the ridges and whirls of scars that covered his face—much like his hands. “Just freezing to death,” the man said with brutal, callous honesty.

Peter’s heart stuttered as he wondered if it was possible to call the suicide hot line subtly. “Why?” he asked as his mind raced. Was there anything they could do if _he_ wasn’t the one who was suicidal?

The man groaned as he stood up and brushed snow off himself. “It didn’t seem like a bad way to die, and man I am an _expert_ in dying these days. Explosions, bullets, fire, sharks—and let me tell you, that was _not_ as fun as it looked on TV. Zero out of ten, would _not_ do again.”

“Uh.” Peter honestly didn’t know where to begin. “Why do you want to die?” he asked.

The man grimaced. “Because my soulmate doesn’t want me,” he muttered.

Peter’s heart ached. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like if he met his soulmate only to have that person tell him to fuck off. “Aw, man,” said Peter as he reached out. “I’m sorry.”

The man grimaced again. “Don’t be. I wouldn't want to be with me, either.”

Peter reached out to the man. “Don’t be like that,” he said. “Here, let’s walk around together and see the happy sights of Winter Wonderland.”

The man stared at the hand for a moment before tentatively taking it. Peter grinned and tightened his grip. “This will be fun,” he told the man.

Wade had always looked forward to Christmas. He had to. After all, he was going to meat his soulmate on Christmas, right? That’s what the tree and snowman meant, right? (He had no idea what the spider meant, but he figured he’d realize it when he met his soulmate.)

Even after the shit went down with Weapon X, he still looked forward to Christmas. While there was no chance of his soulmate liking him now, he did still love the ambiance and the general goodwill that people had towards each other. He had pretty much given up on the idea of ever finding his soulmate until after he’d moved to New York. After he’d met Spiderman.

Spiderman didn’t really _like_ him the first time they met (in fact his first statement was to demand to know what Deadpool was doing in his city), but he didn’t go out of his way to turn Deadpool away either. And, after Deadpool had saved him in battle, he’d even _thanked_ the merc! It made his toes wiggle in pleasure, it really did.

So, he got to thinking (hoping) that maybe, _maybe_ if the heroic wall-crawling hero thought he was worth a second chance, just _maybe_ his soulmate would too. So, once again, he got in the swing of the holidays. Even spent several of them wandering through the local event, “Winter Wonderland.” Oh, and they had iced spice cookies that looked _just like_ the snowman on his wrist! It was destiny!

Except—his soulmate never came. All Wade could figure was that maybe his soulmate was avoiding Christmas—avoiding him. So, this year, he decided fuck it, might as well freeze to death and stay dead through the winter.

Then this absolutely _adorable_ kid, just the right side of legal, insisted on helping him. Held out a hand to him despite him not being in his suit or wearing gloves and being kind of disgusting to touch. So, they hung out. They entered a tree decorating competition and even got an honorable mention (which was kind of a cop out, but eh. They had fun.). Wade took him to the stand that set up every year with those cookies and got a dozen, plus a couple cups of hot chocolate for them to share.

“Hmm,” said the kid. “You know, Aunt May always told me not to take food from strangers.”

Wade gently nudged the kid with his shoulder. “Wade Wilson, at your service Sir,” he drawled in a fake British accent.

The kid laughed and he grinned, pleased the kid had gotten the reference. The kid stuck out his own gloved hand, once again. “Peter,” he said with a smile. “Peter Parker.”

“Ooo! Alliteration buddies! Sweet!” And he held up his hot chocolate mug for a salute that the kid— _Peter—_ was more than happy to give him.

“Cheers!” said Peter clinking the two mugs together. (Or, well, they _would_ have clinked if they’d been made of plastic or glass or ceramic instead of Styrofoam.)

“Cheers!” Wade said as he grabbed a cookie from the basket and dunked it into the hot chocolate. The day, despite its depressing start, was going perfect.

Cue bad guy in shiny green metallic suit crashing the party. Oh, well. Wade calmly finished his cookie, set it down (not noticing that Peter, in a much more reasonable reaction, had already left) He set his cup and cookies down, teleported to his place, changed, and was back and ready for action as he watched the local hero Spiderman attack the bad guy.

Wade came under the metal thing the bad guy was using to fly (hey, he rhymed!) and sliced part of it off—without touching the man riding it. The bad guy tumbled to the ground, but he was alive so score!

He turned to brag to Spidey—only to see him staring at Wade with shock. “Wade?” he asked.

Wade stared right back. “Peter?” he asked hesitantly. Peter yanked up his sleeve to reveal—a Christmas tree and a snowman that matched Wade’s. The third image was an almost perfect copy of one of his swords. Wade tentatively removed his glove to reveal _his_ three; the Christmas tree, snowman, and spider. The _spider_. Why hadn’t Wade seen it before?

Peter—Spiderman—ran up to Wade and jumped up hugging him like a koala bear hugged a tree. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever,” he whispered.

Wade hugged him back. He knew they were going to have to talk about this, talk about everything soon enough. But for now.

For now, everything was perfect.


End file.
